


Springtime In Sunnydale

by xspike4evax



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-04-07 12:49:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14081292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xspike4evax/pseuds/xspike4evax
Summary: Springtime comes early for Spike.





	Springtime In Sunnydale

Spike hit the ground hard, his head bouncing off the concrete path. He heard Willow let out a sharp cry just as the remaining vampire they had been battling with lunged at him.

Spike's arm came up, bent at the elbow, moving over his chest, hand clutching a stake. The vampire's yellow eyes widened, reflecting a moment's horror before he landed on the raised stake, the wood piercing his heart. 

The vampire exploded, dust erupting in the air, swirling in the cold wind. 

"Spike? Spike, are you, all right?" Willow's shoes scuffed the path as she hurried to Spike's side. 

Her hands grasped at his shoulders as Spike hauled himself into a sitting position. Gentle hands slid into his hair, prodding at the back of his head, searching for a lump or flowing blood. "You hit your head really hard. At least, that's how it sounded."

"I'm all right," Spike said dismissively. "Had worse." 

"Poor, Spike." 

He'd been "poor Spike" a lot over the last few years, what with the Slayer sticking him in a wheelchair (not that she had meant to, that hadn't been her aim, which sort of made it worse. Bitch bested him even when she wasn't trying), Drusilla leaving him and now the God damn sodding chip in his head. Nothing seemed to go right for him. The only real friend he had was the little witch who was looking at him with wide eyed concern, eager to help because that was the way Willow was. She liked to help. It had nothing to do with him really. 

That was just even more depressing. He was just someone who needed help. She wasn't helping him because it was him. Because he was Spike and that meant something to her. 

She was still the only real friend he had. She was nice to him. Always had a smile for him or a kind word. Always chided the moron when she though he was being too mean. As if Xander bloody Harris could hurt his feelings in any way. 

Still, it was sort of nice knowing Willow was kind of on his side. 

A little less lonely. 

Still bloody depressing though. 

The worst part of it all, Spike was relatively certain he was starting to develop a bit of crush on the witch. 

"I think you might get a lump." A small frown wrinkled Willow's forehead. "Do vampires get lumps?"

"Yeah, we get lumps." Spike was just about to dismiss her concern again, it was almost too much to bear, looking even weaker in front of her. 

"Oh, and your lip too." Her fingers tilted Spike's chin to examine the cut more closely. She could feel his eyes on her, not just looking at her, but drinking her in, watching her intently and her hand shook nervously. "It doesn't look too bad." She fished a handkerchief from her pocket and dabbed at his lip. 

Her free hand was warm where she cupped his cheek to keep his face steady and her breath tickled his skin. She was so close Spike could count the freckles scattered over her nose if he wanted to. He reflected that might be a nice pass time. 

His eyes lifted and caught hers; deep green eyes swimming with a confusion that made little hopeful wings sprout from his heart. Spike held her gaze, refusing to let her look away, wanting her to acknowledge this new tension between them that was powerful and potent in its meaning.

Finally, Willow blinked and the connection was broken. She took the opportunity to get to her feet and take a deep breath, turning away from Spike. 

Spike got up too, wiping dust and dirt from his coat to give his hands something to do. He fell into step beside Willow as she began to walk along the path through the cemetery.

The wind picked up a little, threading cold fingers through her hair and Willow shivered, pulling the collar of her jacket up around her ears. "The nights are still pretty cold. It might not be so bad if the wind would just go away." She gave a little sigh. "I wish spring would hurry up and get here."

Spike's sharp eyes picked up a splash of white just inside the cemetery gates. He paused and squatted down, Willow watched him curiously. A minute later he straightened up and offered her a handful of small flowers with white, wedge shaped petals. 

"Mariposa lilies. First sign that spring is on the way. You'll be gettin' your wish soon enough, pet."

"Thank you." Willow took the lilies, fingers touching to the silky petals. 

"Spring," Spike mused quietly, his eyes finding hers again. "Where sweet things bloom. Where things grow softly in the dark an' should be nurtured all nice an' tender like."

A strip of colour infused her cheeks and Willow looked down at the flowers, a shy little smile curling the corners of her lips. "Yes," she agreed quietly. 

He held the gate open for her and they left the cemetery with Spike falling into step beside her. He was startled when the warmth of her fingers brushed against his hand, slowly slipping between his. 

Spike squeezed her fingers lightly. 'Looks like spring's come a bit earlier this year after all."


End file.
